Dance With Me
by Abandoned Accountxx
Summary: A Meet the Robinsons fanfic. CorneliusFranny. It’s easy Cornelius, just move your feet and feel the music.


** Disclaimer:** Dude, I can't own Meet the Robinsons in that hat.

**A/N:** Um, Yay?

* * *

"Cornelius, you've GOT to win that for me!"

The boy in question, -- or rather, the young man; he was sixteen after all – turned to see his sort-of girlfriend flailing wildly in the direction of a large stuffed frog at a classic knock-down-the-bottles booth. He sighed, thinking briefly of how this particular night had come to be; Franny, the sort-of girlfriend in question, had heard that there was a carnival in town, a huge occurrence in the city. She was obviously ecstatic about going but Cornelius… not so much. After a futile effort in arguing against her wishes, she had dragged his drooping, defeated form to the carnival and had proceeded in gushing over everything there was to see, wanting to go on every cheap theme ride, and forcing Cornelius to spend large sums of money on grease ridden food and poorly constructed stuff animals that were guaranteed to fall apart in a week.

And it seemed she still wanted more.

"Franny," Cornelius said, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his empty hand, the other currently occupied with a bag of previously bought stuff, "you _know_ my hand-eye coordination leaves much to be desired. I'll never be able to win one of those silly things."

Franny pouted momentarily over the "silly things" comment (She took her frogs very seriously, thank you!), but soon replaced her annoyed look with wet doe eyes. She batted her eyelashes slowly and pleaded, in a voice that would have better fit a seven year old, "Please, Cornelius? I _promise_ this'll be the last one tonight."

Cornelius felt the back of his neck and the tip of his ears going hot. No fifteen-year-old girl should be allowed to look that adorable; it just wasn't fair to their sixteen-year-old sort-of boyfriends.

Unable to say no, Cornelius walked forward and placed the bag on the ground then rummaged in his back pocket for two dollars. He pulled them out and placed them softly on the table. "I'd like a game please."

Franny squealed and hugged Cornelius quickly around his shoulders, making the teenage blush red once again. The man behind the counter, a gruff looking person in his mid-fifties chewing a toothpick, reached down and pulled up three rubber balls and placed them in front of Cornelius, taking away the money in the process. "Hit down the bottles to win a prize," he muttered in a monotone, sounding as if he honestly didn't care whether you threw these balls or shoved them up your nose.

Cornelius picked up the first ball, weighed it in his hand, approximated it mass, did a few quick calculations in his head, tossed the ball back and forth in his hands, weighed in again, double checked his math, then, finally, pulled back his arm and let it fly.

It hit a good three feet left of its mark. The story was the same for the next ball. And the next.

Once Cornelius had thrown his eleventh ball to no avail, the man took pity on him and handed him a much smaller plush frog for his efforts. He took it and handed it meekly to Franny with a soft "sorry."

Franny shook her head and hugged the soft animal tightly to her chest, beaming, "Nothing to be sorry about! I think this little is just as adorable as any of 'em. Thanks so much!" She giggled and lifted up the doll's face to Cornelius's cheek, feigning the frog giving him a kiss. She turned and waltzed off, clutching the frog tightly and obviously expected Cornelius to follow.

Cornelius smiled softly, almost dreamily, and bent down to pick up the bag when the man in the booth spoke up, "She seem' like a sweet gurl. Ya take good care a' her, ya hear?"

Cornelius flushed and looked at the man who smiled and winked at him, showing at least four gold teeth. Cornelius blushed to his roots and nodded shortly then ran off after Franny, who was now all but lost in the crowd.

The gruff man let out a bark of a laugh, "Kid's these days…," he growled, chomping down on his toothpick.

Hours later, Cornelius puffed behind Franny, now weighed down by three more bags, a stomach full of questionable corndogs, and extremely worn-out legs; He was more then ready to go home.

"Franny, could we take a break or something? I'm about to fall over here!" He gasped.

"Just a sec, Cornelius! I just want to find one more place," she insisted. She was still holding the small stuffed frog and was beginning to wear it out with all her clutching, but it made Cornelius's heart swell to see her so attached to it. Even though he hadn't actually won it, it still felt like she liked it just because he had tried so hard to get it for her. It was a nice feeling, having someone care that much. He only ever got it from three people in the world. The other two where his adoptive parents.

Picking up his pace, he walked up beside Franny and attempted to stand up strait, "If you don't mind me asking, what are we looking for exactly?" He ventured

"A friend of mine told me about this place…" she began ambiguously, only to cut off when her eyes lit up and an "AHA!" erupted from her mouth. She sped forward toward a small white gazebo practically hidden in a corner between two tents. It was surrounded by bushes and, off to the side a little bit, there was a jukebox.

Franny glanced back at Cornelius, ginning widely, and ran up the wooden step on to the gazebo's platform and twirled around, her skirt spinning up to her mid-thigh. Cornelius made an effort to ignore it.

"We're here!" She announced, still ginning. She spread her arms wide and spun one more time, this time slower and her skirt didn't rise as much. Cornelius gave her a half exasperated, half amused look.

"You had this planned from the very start, didn't you?" He accused playfully, walking up to the gazebo and placing his bags by the stairs.

Franny placed her hands behind her back and smiled shyly, "I had wanted to see the rest of the carnival too," she answered guiltily, cutely.

Cornelius shook his head, chuckling, and walked the rest of the way to Franny and stood in front of her, hands in pockets and a sweet, small smile playing on his lips. For a moment the two of them just stood there, gazing at each other. Cornelius never really noticed just how much shorter she was than him. And if he was just a bit closer…

Franny suddenly broke the spell with a soft "oh!" as if she had just remembered something important. She jogged quickly off the gazebo and down to the jukebox as Cornelius followed her with his eyes, still vaguely transfixed. She stopped in front of the gently humming machine and riffled through her small pocket book, pulling out a quarter. She glanced quickly at the music selection in the glowing box and quickly made her choice, pushing the appropriate buttons. The sound of a guitar playing a song in a slow three-four time floated softly from the jukebox and Franny smiled, her work complete.

She ran quickly back up to Cornelius who was still watching her, though now slightly confused, and grabbed his large hands in her own small ones. She flashed her brightest smile at his bemused face and ordered more then asked her next question.

"Dance with me?"

Cornelius's face went from confused to shocked to embarrassed in the span of a second. He looked away from her bright, inviting eyes and said, sadly, "I don't know how."

Franny shook her head teasingly. "It's easy, Cornelius," she said, moving one of his hands to her waist while placing one of her own on his shoulder, "just move your feet and feeling the music."

She started moving.

Cornelius fumbled around after her for a few seconds before fall into rhythm. Franny was right; it wasn't really all that hard once you got started. They were just kind of swaying to the music anyway; there weren't any specific steps to it or anything. He eased a bit more into the position they were in, his hand relaxing on her waist and his shoulder slouching where Franny's hand was. He gripped her hand that he still held in his own just a little bit more. His heart was swelling again.

Cornelius looked down, about to say something to the girl he held, perhaps something about the song or how right she was about the dancing, but he stopped, the words dying on his tongue.

Franny had closed her eyes and seemed to be slightly inside herself. Every muscle in her face was entirely relaxed and serene, her long eyelashes resting lightly on her checks. Her lips seemed fuller, plusher then they usually were and the apples of her cheeks were lightly dusted with pink. She was mouthing the words to the song; her head tilted ever-so-slightly and smile placed carefully on her face like a great ribbon on a Christmas package. She looked like an angel.

It reminded Cornelius of something he honestly hadn't thought about in months. She looked like she would. She looked right now exactly as he remembered the Franny he had met those four years ago, when he had gone to the future and seen everything that was going to be. She looked like his wife.

Suddenly, Cornelius stopped dancing, he stopped breathing, and, for just a second, his heart stopped beating. He swore he could hear something (fate?) faintly falling into place like a final piece of a puzzle or at very least an important one filling in a large gap.

_Click._

"Cornelius, are you okay?" Franny asked looking up, worry etched into her eyebrows.

Cornelius looked down at her and smiled, "It's nothing, Franny," he said, slipping his hand from her waist to the small of her back and pulling her closer, "just thinking about the future."

Franny let out a small laugh and let her forehead fall to his broad shoulder, "You should think more about the present, silly."

The song on the Jukebox was coming to an end, somewhere in the distance people where shouting and giggling, lights had begun to turn off as the carnival started to slowly close down, he could see the stars growing brighter in the distance, and a smell flitted about his nose, something like plums and passion fruit, which he guessed was Franny's shampoo.

Cornelius released a half sigh half laugh and leaned his head toward the one on his shoulder, wishing this moment would never have to end but knowing it would and, at the same time, being glad that this one would be soon be over so that, later, there could be others.

"It's all the same thing at one point or another, Franny."


End file.
